


Seeing Each Other

by Tenukii



Series: Good Omens [5]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Bad At Titles, Mild Blood, Sappy, Tumblr Ask Box Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-21
Updated: 2019-07-21
Packaged: 2020-07-10 10:04:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19903948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tenukii/pseuds/Tenukii
Summary: When Beelzebub's upset and refuses to see him, Gabriel goes all the way to Hell to find out what's wrong.





	Seeing Each Other

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a Tumblr request for Ineffable Bureaucracy hurt/comfort.

“For the lazzt time, I’m not coming up there!” the Prince of Hell growled over the phone. “I don’t want to zzee you.”

“But it’s—” Gabriel began, then cut himself off, thinking, _If she didn’t notice, I’m not going to remind her!_

“It’zz what?” When Gabriel didn’t respond, Beelzebub repeated, “It’zz _what_?”

“It’s Thursday,” the archangel muttered.

“Zzo what?” Beelzebub was buzzing more than usual, a sure sign she was agitated. Gabriel considered that it might be better just to drop the whole thing; she certainly wouldn’t be good company even if she did show up.

Nevertheless, he pointed out, “We usually meet on Thursdays. I made plans for us.”

“Change your planzz then. I’m bizzy today,” snapped Beelzebub. Gabriel scowled out across the pond at St. James’s Park, where he’d been waiting in vain for her to show up. Beelzebub had blown their meetings off before, but she usually called first, instead of leaving Gabriel to call her and ask where she was. He briefly wondered if he’d done something to make her mad, then brushed the thought aside. They hadn’t seen one another in a week, and things had been fine when they last parted ways. (Relatively speaking, of course—with Beelzebub, “fine” could mean a lot of things.)

Gabriel tried again to reason with her, “You promised you’d be here—” but she interrupted him.

“I’m a demon! Promizzezz don’t mean anything to me.”

“They do every time _I_ break one to _you!_ ” Gabriel retorted.

“You want to keep a promizze to me, promizze that you’ll leave me alone!” yelled Beelzebub. Her harsh voice rang in Gabriel’s skull, and he held his phone a bit farther away from his ear.

Gabriel inhaled a deep breath and did his best to sound reasonable, despite his growing frustration. “Look, just come up for five minutes, okay? Then you can get back to whatever the Hell—Heaven—whatever you’re doing!”

“ _No!_ ” Beelzebub shouted. “How dumb _are_ you? Why can’t you take no for an anzzer?”

The archangel closed his eyes and sighed before admitting, “Because I want to see you. Bee, it’s—it’s our anniversary.”

He got dead silence for so long, he thought she’d hung up on him. But then, Beelzebub said slowly, “Our. . . what?”

“Anniversary,” Gabriel repeated. “A year since we started. . . this. Seeing each other.”

After another long silence, she buzzed, “We aren’t. . . ‘zzeeing each ozzer.’ It’s bizzness. That’zz _all_.”

Gabriel’s heart began to sink. He hadn’t really expected Beelzebub to keep track of the anniversary like he had, but to deny that what they’d been doing was anything but _business_. . . .

“That’s not true,” he muttered into the phone.

“It _izz!_ ” Beelzebub’s normally flat voice rose and echoed with the noise of her flies. “And I won’t let you zzee me, zzo fuck off back to Heaven and leave me alone!”

Gabriel’s heart finished its descent to somewhere around the pit of his stomach, but he managed to sound more angry than hurt when he grumbled, “Fine, I’ll leave you alone! I don’t want to see you again either!” He hung up before Beelzebub could and shoved his phone back in his pocket.

The archangel raked his fingers through his hair with a groan, then propped his elbows on his thighs and let his head sink down to rest in his hands. _I **am** dumb,_ he scolded himself. In a rare moment of insight, he realized his shortcoming: _She was upset about something even before I called, and I just made it worse by demanding to know why she wasn’t here. I should’ve asked her what’s wrong_. Instead, Gabriel had lied to Beelzebub and said he didn’t want to see her again.

A year wasn’t a very long time for immortal beings, and Gabriel was still learning how to interact with someone who was, instead of a subordinate, more or less his equal. The learning curve had been steep for Beelzebub as well, and they’d fought over each other’s attitudes plenty of times. Gabriel had no doubt they’d get over this fight just like all the others, given enough time.

_But I don’t want it to give it time,_ Gabriel sulked. _Maybe I should call her back and. . . and apologize._ He grimaced but pulled out his phone all the same. Yet when he called Beelzebub and put the phone to his ear, Gabriel only heard her voice mail: “You have reached the Lord of the Fliezz. To leave a mezzage. . . .”

“Bastard,” Gabriel growled under his breath as he hung up again. So she wouldn’t take his call—so what! Fine! He didn’t want to apologize to her anyway! Besides, she owed _him_ an apology too, for standing him up and for everything she’d said. _I won’t let you see me._ As if seeing a grubby little fly-infested demon was some kind of _privilege!_

. . . Except that, for Gabriel, it _was_.

He briefly considered texting Beelzebub, but he knew she wouldn’t reply. That left only one option: seeing her face to face so that she couldn’t possibly ignore him.

_And if she won’t come up here,_ thought Gabriel, _I’ll have to go. . . down there. If Michael could do it, so can I!_ Of course, Michael had been able simply to take the elevator, whereas Gabriel would have to be more discreet. He knew he could find Beelzebub by honing in on the particular sense of evil she radiated, thus appearing directly before her. He had only to hope that she was alone.

Gabriel glanced around to see if anyone was paying attention to him. The nearest humans were all preoccupied, and none of them was looking at the tall man in the lavender-grey suit sitting on a bench with a furtive look on his face. Assured that it was safe to proceed, the Archangel Gabriel straightened his tie then descended into Hell.

\--

After Gabriel hung up on her, Beelzebub slumped in her office chair with her phone still clutched in her fist. Her flies swarmed around her head in agitation.

_He remembered_. _Our. . . anniversary._ She hadn’t thought of the day in exactly those terms, but she _had_ thought of it. One year they’d spent together, out of the more than six thousand years they’d been apart. It wasn’t much of a record, but it was _something_ —something a year longer than anything she’d had before. And, oblivious though he could be, Gabriel had recognized that and remembered it. Beelzebub glowered down at her phone, then tossed it on her desk with a buzz of frustration.

_Leave it to that idiot to be nice at exactly the wrong time_ , she thought. She rubbed at her cheek with the back of her hand, scowled, then scratched at it furiously. The scratching made pain radiate throughout her face, but at least it stopped the blasted itching. When Beelzebub looked at her hand, her fingers had blood smeared across them, and scabs caked under her black nails. Several flies landed on the freshly opened sores on her face, but she hardly felt them.

“He can’t zzee me like thizz,” Beelzebub muttered as she wiped her hand on her pants leg. She scooted her chair closer to the desk and tried to concentrate on the mess of paperwork there, but her mind kept returning to Gabriel. . . specifically Gabriel telling her, “I don’t want to see you again either!” He didn’t mean it, probably. He wouldn’t break up—end their working relationship over one little fight.

She hoped.

Her damned face was itching again, and Beelzebub was about to claw at it some more when the buzz of her phone stopped her. She grabbed for it and exhaled when she saw Gabriel was calling. Her thumb hovered over the phone, but then she swiped to decline the call instead of answering it. Talking to Gabriel just then would probably make the fight worse instead of better, and anyway, she didn’t have anything different to say to him.

_I could say I’m sorry._

Beelzebub pushed at the inside of her cheek with her tongue and watched her phone to see if Gabriel left her a message. When none came, she sighed and turned back to her papers, rubbing at her face with the side of her hand as she did so. The flies there lifted into the air when her hand passed by, then settled again on her raw skin.

Beelzebub had only worked for a few minutes when she felt the hair stand up on the back of her neck, and all the flies circling her head buzzed louder and faster. She recognized those signs, as well as the crackle she heard a second later, and her eyes went wide.

“Shit, no, he wouldn’t _dare_ —” Beelzebub swore as she spun around in her chair, just in time for her eyes to be dazzled by a bolt of violet lightning which seemed to strike from the ceiling. When Gabriel appeared standing in that spot, Beelzebub swung back to face her desk and hunched over it, bristling.

“You—you—what are you _doing_ here?!” she demanded.

“You wouldn’t answer your phone,” Gabriel retorted, as if that was a valid excuse for an archangel to appear in the midst of Hell.

“ _You_ zzaid you didn’t want to zzee me!” Beelzebub glanced at him over her right shoulder, to keep the left side of her face hidden from him. Gabriel was watching her with an expression of consternation on his handsome face as he shooed away a few flies that had flown over to investigate him.

“I. . . .” Gabriel cleared his throat and folded his arms across his chest before muttering, “I came to say I’m sorry.” Beelzebub stared at him.

“You’re zzor—” She broke off, closed her eyes, and enunciated more clearly despite her agitation, “ _Sorry?_ Gabriel, what the Hell are you up to?”

He repeated, “I mean it, I’m sorry. I just. . . I wanted to see you, but I should have asked—you’re upset about something, aren’t you?”

“Yezz, I’m upzzet about you zzapping yourzzelf into my offizze with no warning!”

“Fine, I’ll go in a minute. But I meant you were upset when I called, and I. . . guess I made it worse. So I’m sorry.” He finished in a somewhat defiant tone, but Beelzebub was touched in spite of it, and in spite of herself.

_I’m as big an idiot as he is, letting him get to me,_ she thought, yet she mumbled aloud, “I’m sorry azz well. For breaking my promizze, and for. . . everything I zzaid too. I juzzt—I can’t zzee you today.”

“But _why_? Are you really just busy with all this?” Gabriel took a step towards the desk and reached to rifle through the papers to Beelzebub’s left. She quickly turned her back to him and edged her chair away, even as she grabbed for her paperwork with her left hand.

“Keep out of thozze! They’re—” she began, breaking off when Gabriel caught her hand in his.

“You’ve got something on—is that _blood_?” He let go quickly; Beelzebub curled her hand into a fist and hid it in her lap.

“Yezz, it’s blood,” she muttered, then added fiercely, “I _zzaid_ to leave me alone.”

“Whose is it? I didn’t think you did much hands-on work, but do they have you torturing lost souls today or something? You could have just told me instead of—”

“It’zz _my_ blood, all right?” Beelzebub snapped. “You’re zzo damn curiouzz about why I’m bizzy, it’zz becauzze of thizz!” She finally turned in her chair to expose her face to the archangel. As she had expected, Gabriel stared at her skin, raw and oozing through her usual scabs, with the boils scratched open. Blood had smeared from the wounds and dried to a dark brown on her pale skin.

“What _happened_ to you?” Gabriel’s upper lip curled slightly, and Beelzebub was furious at him all over again. Of course she’d known he’d be disgusted by her condition, but it still. . . _hurt_.

Gabriel leaned in closer and put his hands on the arms of Beelzebub’s chair to brace himself. He studied her face through narrowed eyes then demanded, “Who did this?”

Beelzebub had leaned back in her chair and lifted one foot to kick him away, but she lowered it slowly instead.

“Who. . . what?” she asked. Their eyes met; his were glowing under his furrowed brow.

“Who hurt you? I’ll destroy them.”

Normally, Beelzebub would have responded to such a claim with derision. Gabriel was powerful, of course, but fit more for show than for actual battle. Nevertheless, this time she sensed no bravado in his words. He _meant_ it.

“Gabriel—it’zz juzzt my zzki— _skin_. No one hurt me. I’ve been scratching,” she told him. Some of the anger dissolved from his face, and she went on, “Sometimezz it flarezz up. Not very often anymore, but sometimezz. Like now.”

Gabriel asked, “And that’s why you said I couldn’t see you? Because of this?” To her utter amazement, he lifted his hand and stroked her left cheek with the backs of his fingers, along the edge of where her ragged scabbing began. Disturbed by his movement, her flies buzzed louder, and Beelzebub nodded slightly.

“Why?” The question was not tender but blunt. _He really doesn’t know!_ she realized.

“It’zz. . . it’zz ugly, and mezzy. And you hate mezz. It will get clearer in a few dayzz, and I wazz going to see you then,” Beelzebub explained. Gabriel plucked the handkerchief from his suit pocket and gently wiped away some of the blood from her face.

“Why didn’t you just ask me to fix it?”

She huffed, “You can’t heal thizz, Gabriel. My skin burned when I Fell.”

“I know that, but maybe I can stop the flare,” Gabriel insisted. “Let me try, hmm?”

He smiled, and Beelzebub groaned, “Fine, but if you make it worzze, I really won’t see you again.” Gabriel ignored the threat and spread his hand over the left side of her face, heedless of the wounds there. The itching and burning sensations faded at his very touch, and when he bent his head and kissed her brow, they disappeared altogether—not just where his hand rested but everywhere her damaged skin plagued her.

Gabriel let her go, and Beelzebub cautiously touched her cheek. Her usual scabs and boils remained, but all the open wounds were healed.

Beelzebub muttered, “Thank you. But did you have to kizz me to do it?”

“Yes, it was absolutely necessary,” said Gabriel with a smirk.

“Well it’zz awfully trite—and cheeky. Here, what are you—” Gabriel had kissed her forehead again, then silenced her by kissing her on the mouth. A buzz rattled in the back of Beelzebub’s throat.

“You drive me crazzy,” she murmured against his lips, “you stupid angel.” She hooked an arm around his shoulders and pulled him closer for a deeper kiss. Some of her flies landed in Gabriel’s hair, but neither of them noticed.

After a moment, Gabriel pulled back a little and whispered, “If this happens again, tell me, okay? You don’t have to worry about how you look.”

“I wazzn’t _worried_ —”

Beelzebub quit protesting when he insisted, “You’re beautiful, Bee. I’ll always think so.” Her face grew warm, and it had nothing to do with her skin. Gabriel went on, “ _Now_ will you come up with me? It’s still our anniversary, even if it’s just a year of doing business together.”

“I’ll come. And—it’zz more than that,” she admitted as she looked up into his face, still close to hers. “I know it, and you know it.”

“You mean we _are_ seeing each other?” Gabriel grinned his goofy, charming smile.

“I suppozze so.” Beelzebub pulled him close again and just held him with her chin resting on his broad shoulder. The Prince of Hell squeezed her eyes shut and said in a rush, “I love you, Gabe.”

The Archangel Gabriel wrapped both arms tightly around her and whispered back, “I love you too.”

\--

The End


End file.
